Page 47 of Destiny Reclaimed

The blood drained from her face, and her gaze hardened. She thrust her arms from his hands and stepped back. “Can’t or won’t!”

Never before had he heard her raise her voice. He swallowed hard. “I simply can’t. Idon’tknow how—”

“So, you’re not a time traveler?” she interrupted, asking point-blank.

His whole body heated and perspired. He needed to cough up an answer that didn’t constitute a lie, nor reveal the truth. And one that wouldn’t hurt her in the process.

Her hands ground into her hips as she kept her glare on him.

His pulse pounded.

“Well?” she pressed.

“You’re exhausted. You’re not thinking clearly.”

She flinched as if avoiding a strike. He’d give anything to suck those hurtful words back into his mouth.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You think I’m crazy.”

“Sweetheart, no.”

She stepped back as he reached for her. “Don’t touch me! You’re the one person who should believe and help me. Yet, you won’t.”

“It’s not that I won’t. Preservers—” he snapped his mouth shut and reeled back two steps. His pulse pounded. He’d just about blown it—revealed the secret.

“Oh, my God. You really are a Preserver and can—” she covered her mouth with her hand cutting off her words.

“I can’t—"

“Just stop. You’ve said enough. I know where you stand on this. I’m not important enough to you for you to fix this for me.”

She pointed to the bedroom door. “Just go. I want to be alone.”

It stung that she didn’t believe him over a dead brother who showed up in her dreams. He was tempted to spin the table in that direction, but in his heart, he knew she was right—he should be willing to do whatever it took to make her happy...but she didn’t have all the facts.

His shoulders slumped in defeat. He dropped his gaze to the floor for a couple of beats, then lifted it to meet hers. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

He turned to leave. There was nothing more he could say.

“Just one more thing,” she said as he’d nearly reached the door.

Jack glanced over his shoulder to find she’d taken a couple of steps toward him. Her hand splayed over her stomach. “I hope you’ll be happy knowing our baby will never meet his uncle.”

He shifted his gaze from her hand to her eyes, then back down again. Thrill snapped through him like a whip, and for the briefest of moments, the excitement coursing his veins rendered him silent.

Then, her cold, hard glare struck him like a blow strong enough to almost knock him off his feet. News which was supposed to be shared in the happiest of moments had just been laid upon him in spite. Moments ago, he’d felt guilty about his avoidance of the truth—lie—but now he only felt anger that she’d chosen to ruin this special moment out of selfishness. Not one hint of remorse flickered in her gaze.

Without a word, he ripped his gaze from her and left the room.